


The Bargain

by AussieOnyx



Series: Lynchpins [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bargains, Faustian Bargain, Gen, more than she appears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2343332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AussieOnyx/pseuds/AussieOnyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A deal in the desert as he lay dying sees Nick Fury agreeing to change the course of history...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bargain

**Author's Note:**

> Rabid plot-bunny attack. I should be finishing (starting) uni assignments, but this one wouldn't leave me alone. It can be read as a stand alone, however (should there be enough interest) I may continue this little plot line in the semester break (and after I finish 'Arms).  
> Con-crit is welcome. :)  
> Enjoy.
> 
> Edit: Nov 10-14; finally figured out how to tag this as a part of the series. I don't know if it will pop up at the top of the 'updated' list, if it does, sorry, nothing new to add to this... on the brightside, plot bunnies seem to be breeding again... :)

Nick Fury, former director of the organisation once known as SHIELD, sighed as he drew another sheaf of papers to the blotter in front of him. He'd known for a while now that his watch as director would be the last one that SHIELD would ever see. He spared a thought for the agents that he'd lost, both in the past and in the recent days' events.  
Scribbling his name on another condolence letter, he mused about the shallowness of a letter filled with platitudes. How in the world could ink on paper make up for the loss of a life of someone's loved one? How could hollow words convey the magnitude of knowing that a life was snuffed out because of the orders that he'd given? It wasn't fair... for them. Nick had made his peace with the fact that he'd be the one to make that decision and then stand by to watch the people under his care die for his choices. He was living through his penance. It was something that he'd had the last few years to accept.  
The signs of HYDRA's infiltration, not only of SHIELD but other world-wide governments had been hidden deeply, but were obvious if you'd thought to look, knew where to look; the recent paranoia propagated in the media about 'terrorists' and the loss of 'the American way of life'. The funding to the noisy hate groups and radicals all created to the gradual 'need' for more control and the subsequent willingness of the populace to hand over that control in the name of staying 'safe'. 

Nick snorted to himself. Safe. What a fucking joke. There was no such thing as being 'safe'. There was the illusion of safety and security- you could buy locks and doors, add fire-walls to computers, have an arsenal of weapons at your disposal, but there would always be someone with a bigger stick waiting around the corner to drive home the point that there was no way to be safe. You always had to be vigilant and be prepared to fight for those you loved. He hadn't felt safe since before he'd joined SHIELD so many years ago.  
If the last few days sorting out the cluster-fuck with HYDRA and the Captain had proven anything, it was that there was no such thing as safety. On the bright-side though, HYDRA would no longer be able to manipulate everyone to the same extent that they had been. They were exposed and cut off from their resources. They would soon shrivel and die. Nick couldn't be happier.

He needed to clear the paperwork so that there could be a clean slate for the one to come after him. Reaching for the cold cup of coffee, Nick finished the condolence letters by rote and moved on to the budget allocations (they were down, not out. Not yet) when he felt a prickling at the back of his neck as the small hairs raised at the feeling of being watched. That shouldn't be possible- he was in a secure location, behind steel-and-adamantium bulk-heads and bolts. There were no vents big enough to allow an ant through, let alone anything bigger. The doors were vacuum sealed and the air conditioning was filtered through more HEPA filters than even the CDC used for viral studies. There were no windows in this office that would allow a sight-line, no glass to shatter. And yet... he was being watched.

Hand dropping to the semi-automatic in the leg pocket of his cargo-pants, Nick's eyes stayed glued to the papers in front of him without really seeing the words written on the page. Stretching his hearing out, trying to hear a sound that wasn't there, couldn't be there. The sense that he was still being watched caused the hairs on his arms and his heart began to beat faster. Giving up the pretense of non-chalance, Nick lifted his eyes from the page, pulled the gun from his pocket and started to look around the office. His eyes said that no-one was there, but the little voice in his primitive hind-brain that governed his sense of fight and flight was screaming at him that there was danger and to run away. Swallowing down the nausea of true fear, Nick stood, toggled the light panel to day-light levels, and backed into the corner of the room in order to see whatever was there. Whomever was there. 

Suddenly, the scent of basil-lavender incense overlaid with the sharp metallic notes that come from the gore of battle filled the room and Nick was thrown back to the memory of that day, in that place and the fear that came from that mission. And the bargain he'd made.  
**

_  
_

He was breathing fast enough to become light-headed as he taped a gauze pad over the wound going through his thigh. The bullet may not have hit his femoral artery, but it definately hit something big and probably important. His team-mate was growing steadily whiter and quieter as Nick tried to stem the wound through the other man's chest. The smell of his blood spilling on the barren sand overwhelmed his other senses and it was all he could do to try and keep pressure on the bullet-wound on the struggling young man. Nick could feel himself getting weaker as his blood mingled with that of his team-mate lying next to him- the stop-gap bandage around his leg failing. They'd never seen the sniper hiding in the scrub as they were setting up their own hide. Either the recon had failed or there was a mole in the unit and now Nick was going to die in this god-forsaken sand lot.  
The man next to him drew in a sharp breath, shuddered and then was still, never exhaling.  
The first bullet had hit his team-mate before the shock-wave of displaced air even stirred the netting on the hide. Nick had screamed into the radio about compromised positions and men down before the second bullet hit his leg.  
No reply came through the radio. And now Nick was bleeding out and staining the yellow sand ochre. He would never get to say good-bye to his mother or congratulate his nephew when he graduated high-school. 

Nick was drifting in his own mind as he waited for his last heart-beat, radio clutched in his slowly weakening hand. He thought he was beginning to hallucinate when he felt a soft hand drift over his face and heard the soft sound of cloth-on-cloth.  
Lavender and Basil. How could there be the scent of lavender and basil in this place? He was relaxing, calming. It couldn't be coming from his clothes- the slaughterhouse smell of spilled and ageing blood overwhelmed his olfactory senses as well as the non-scent of the detergents he used.  
The hand was still drifting over his face, rousing his mind to sharpness. It was a female hand. Small, delicate and warm.  
Blinking up to the sky, Nick tried to clear his vision and see who was there with him.  
The woman's features wouldn't focus. Maybe he was still in shock. He could make out the fuzz of dark hair, the smear of pale skin, the possiblity of ruby lips (the red blur was in the right place for lips) and black pools where there should be eyes. 

“Hello Nicholas.”  
Her voice was smooth and held no inflection of accent. No, that wasn't right. His mind was playing tricks again. There was no way that someone could sound as though they were from Italy and France and China and Australia and Russia and the Mid-west of the USA in the space of only two words. It didn't make sense.

“I have a bargain for you, Nicholas, if you want to listen to it.” Her voice was musical as well as comforting- like a lullaby after a night-mare and it held the weight of millenia. Her hand drifted over his brow like his mother used to do when he was sick as a kid.

The breath he drew burned like a brand, like a shot of tequila on an empty stomach. “W-who?” It was all he could manage.

“I am Balance. I have no name.” There was no emotion in her voice. It was disconcerting. “Would you like to hear my bargain, Nicholas?”

What the hell? There was nothing else he could do, couldn't go anywhere, so he may as well listen to the woman. It wasn't like she could do anything worse to him- he was already dieing. He managed the barest of nods.

“I told you that I am Balance. It is not a name so much as a purpose. I maintain the balance of life and death. In me, there is both the capacity to take and give the spark of life. In me, is the balance of the seasons- the dearth of winter and the abundance of spring. But there is someone, someones who are disturbing that balance. They are taking the lives of those who are not yet meant to leave and giving life to things that should not be. I cannot see who it is that would interfere with the natural ebb and flow of life, but I know that they are there and I know the potential for destruction that they could cause. Do you understand me so far, Nicholas?”

Her hand had never stopped moving. He nodded again. Somehow, she was keeping his mind clear enough that her words were making sense.

“I can make it so you will be able to go home this day and live. I can extend your life by half again the years you have already had, so that you can see your mother and congratulate your nephew. You can live and love and have your own family if you so choose.” 

Nick startled. How had She known that? How could She have known that he had wanted to do those very things? He was thirty-five now, old for this type of mission. The prospect of another seventeen and a half years appealed to him. Though his mother might have something to say about making deals with strange women in strange lands. Likely at high volume.

Another burning breath let Nick whisper, “What do I have to do in return?” followed by a wracking cough.

“I want you to find those who would upset the balance. You were right that your mission was compromised. Those who would set you here to die are also those that are interfering with the natural order of things. They are upsetting the Balance. I want you to find them, and destroy them. Expose them and the destruction that they will bring.”

Swallowing dryly, Nick licked at chapped lips and managed to ask, “Why me?”

The ruby smudge seemed to curve, almost as though She were smiling. “I cannot interfere directly. I am Balance and so far the scales are tipping too far over in one direction due to the actions of those who are trying to vie for deification. I can't stop them myself, but I can add a weight to the other side. You could be that weight, that single ounce that will keep the scales even. You could be the one thing that will keep us all from slipping into chaos and death, should you choose to accept.”  
Her hand had never stilled. He was thinking about Her bargain and everything in him wanted to grab the opportunity with both hands. But it seemed almost too good to be true. There had to be a catch.

“Of course there is a catch, Nicolas. There always is.”  
He frowned under her hand. He wasn't sure if he liked the idea of someone being able to read his thoughts, or face, or whatever it was that She was doing.

“Nicholas, you are a lynchpin. You have, or will have, the ability to shift the balance back to neutral, but your path will not be easy. There will be heartache, joy, pain and the burden of other's lives to accept. You will find others who will aid you in your mission and you will lose still more. There will be wonders and marvels that will make you question all you knew. There will be horrors and tragedies and the pain will be enough that you will wish to die.  
If you can accept the bargain knowing all of this and still strive to eliminate those who are harming the Balance, then I will make it so that you will live for all of those additional years that are granted to you. It would not do for you to die before you accomplish your task, so you will not die- by your own hand or that of another until your allotted time is up. Those years will be yours and cannot be snatched away.”

Seemed fair to him. He would have nearly two decades to get his life in order, to cross off the things on his bucket list. He would have nearly two decades to eat, drink and fuck as he wanted to. He would be able to meet and marry someone if the opportunity came up. He could have a family and know that he wouldn't be killed by a truck or another stray bullet before any kids were old enough to have good memories of their old man and picnics in the sun. He could see his nephew not only graduate high-school, but also college. 

“I accept on one condition.”  
The smudge of hair-face-lips changed angle, as though She had tilted Her head to the side. 

“What is your condition, Nicholas?”

“I would like a week's heads-up before the end. I'll want the opportunity to say good-bye and make sure my affairs are in order. Is that acceptable?” Nick held his breath and waited as She thought.

“It is. Your rescue will be along shortly, Nicholas. Heal and then begin your task. I will be watching.” 

He felt the brush of lips over his eyes in benediction as the pain of his wound came roaring back to the forefront of his consciousness. The welcome sound of helcopter rotors came louder.

Medics were rushing over to him as he lay in the sand, he felt the sharp prick of the IV catheter and the cool rush of saline run into his veins. He watched, detached, as they bundled him and his ill-fated team-mate onto stretchers and run to the chopper. 

He passed out as they lifted off, the smell of lavender-basil and blood still in his nostrils.

**  
Nick'd never really seen what She was wearing that day in the desert. He knew that he had felt the brush of cloth, but was mostly focused on what he could make out of Her face. This time, Nick was able to see pale robes of some type with an undiscernable pattern on the borders where hems would be. The robes shimmered with some kind of luminescence that made it look as though they were made of silk. Even with the day-light levels of illumination in the office and without the threat of imminent exsanguination, Nick was unable to see what She looked like- almost as though he were looking through a camera that had a broken focus. 

“Hello, Nicholas. It's been awhile.”

Flicking the safety back on, Nick returned his gun to his pocket and sat back down at the desk. He knew what her being here meant, but part of him was still not ready to go. 

“Congratulations on your success, Nicholas. The balance is beginning to restore, and per our bargain, I'm here to give you your heads up so that you can say your good-byes.”

Seventeen years had flown. He never did have that family, but he didn't regret anything as far as his family went. Nick had managed to see his Nephew graduated high-school, college and receive his PhD. He'd met his grand-neices and nephew and buried his mother. Nick had seen the Aurora Borealis and watched god-aliens trash small New Mexico towns. He'd been there to meet Captain America and watch as still more aliens lay waste to New York City.

Nick was content with his life as he'd lived it since that day. There were no real regrets... except one. 

He had to tell the Avengers about Phil. He had seven days to try and earn their forgiveness for letting them believe the lie for so long. Maybe they wouldn't shoot him until he'd finished explaining.

“Thank-you for the extra time.” 

She nodded. “You did well, Nicholas and have now earned your rest. You have seven days to finalise all that you have left to do. When the time comes, I will return for you.”

She was beginning to fade out when Nick found his voice again. “Wait.” The fade out stopped and She resolidified in all of Her usual blurriness.  
“Yes?”  
“Will you show me your real face? I'd like to see you once without thinking that I need to get a contact lens.”

The ruby smudge curved into what he guessed was Her version of a smile.  
“As you wish. But you may not speak of it to anyone. The time is not right for such revelations,” Her head tilted before She continued, “though that time is fast approaching.” She paused, considering.  
“Remember, I always said that I couldn't interfere directly.” Her voice, normally emotionless, spoke with a hint of what Nick could only describe as humor. Like there was a joke that only She was privy to. Then She began to come into focus.

The smudge of darkness that Nick had guessed was hair solidified into chocolate waves cascading over shoulders. The pools of darkness stretched, faded and shifted to become blue-green eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. Full lips curved up into a grin that hinted at pearly teeth. Blurred pale robes solidified to reveal a lush figure (that more crass individuals (Tony) would call 'stacked') covered with Empire-waisted silk and gauze Chiton and cloak and silver greave-like arm bands covered Her from wrist to elbow. 

Swearing emphatically, Nick dropped his face into hands as he saw who, exactly, was standing across from his desk.

“I never said that I wouldn't stack the deck.” 

Lavender and Basil was all that was left when Darcy faded out of his office.

“Son-of-a-bitch!”


End file.
